Exploring
by Nyxwrites
Summary: Castiel likes to treat Dean like a piece of art, and explore every inch. Lots of fluff. asexual!Cas. no spoilers.


Dean breathed heavily and turned his hands slightly. The cotton of tie around his wrist held him, but was soft enough to be comfortable. His arms were tied back against the bar on the motel bed's headboard, keeping him from reaching down. This wasn't a sexual experiment, or at least not in the way you'd think. In fact, Dean was only being held like this so he could avoid sexual acts. Unlike his lover who had tied him this way, Dean found this entire event highly sexual. He had never been one for going slow, but with someone who cared about him so much, he couldn't help but want it.

Cas watched Dean's chest move up and down before him in deep breathes of air. He'd taken Dean's shirt off already, wanting an unobstructed view of the person he loved. Castiel found the human body before him fascinating. His own vessel had been carefully observed after he claimed him but there was something different about this. His own body had been a clinical observation to allow him to operate as needed. Dean's body, to him at least, was a soft, supple piece of art. The muscles on the hunter's body clenched each time Castiel touched him or blew on his light surface. Dean's past sexual exploits had led him to expect a thing of a quick burning sexual passion, but that was not how Cas felt. He did not feel aroused by the presence of Dean's body out there for him to touch and take. Instead, he felt like he was handed a master work, inspecting each inch and committing it to memory. Dean would take this experience as one of love and passion but for Cas it was one simply of love. Love changed the world for him. Humans, though his father's creation, had always had a despicable dirtiness about them. When he first heard he was to save Dean, he thought he was off to save another pitiful soul. Dean was different though, even as tortured as he was.

Cas began with the mark, mapping it's edges and kissing the prints made by his fingers softly. Dean had been so spirited even in hell. A fire burning visibly yet unseen to most. Cas ran his fingers over the lines extending from the anti-possession tattoo, feeling Dean's muscles clench under the contact. Dean's sculpted face flushed lightly, and Cas leaned forward to kiss the redness gently. His hands busied themselves along Dean's stomach, dancing over the planes and pressing gently into the grooves. He memorized everything as if the world would pull them apart again. If the world ever did he would be able to find Dean blind. He'd be able to find Dean if he could only hear as well. Dean made noises as Cas patterned his body, small gasps and moans. Sounds of release and lowering of walls, sounds of trust. Cas knew Dean was too attuned in his flight or fight senses to be held immobile like this, yet he was doing it. Through the haze of passion in Dean's eyes, Cas saw trust. He saw trust every time he traced a rib, a scar, a hollow and Dean didn't try to pull away. His stomach drew in slightly, that was true, but it was gentle. The reaction was human more than anything.

Cas traced Dean's arms as they raised above his head. Years of fighting and training had left them well defined and full of unexplored valleys. Cas was careful to trace each of these, repeating how much he loved Dean out loud. As he traced Dean's fingers which braced the cold metal of the bar in an attempt to maintain some control, he told Dean how long he'd loved him. He knew Dean already knew this, it wasn't the first time Cas had told him, but this time was slow. Barely a whisper, crawling across Cas' tongue and threw his lips. The words were as directly from his heart as he could, no editing, no censoring.

Dean was beginning to ask for release, needing to relieve the pressure that had built up. Cas wasn't done yet though. He pulled his finger across Dean's lips, closing them gently and tracing them. He kissed the place where Dean's dimples formed when he smiled. Cas grinned himself at the feeling of Dean's stubble across his cheek. He kissed Dean's eyelids, tracing their perfectly oval form. His fingers brushed the rims of Dean's ears and he whispered into them. His breath blew gently across the rounded shapes, telling Dean how they were each other's to care for. Finally Cas brushed his fingers through Dean's hair against the flow. It pushed back against the motion lightly allowing Cas to feel every inch.

Knowing Dean needed release, and acknowledging that he had his turn, Cas leaned for the ties. He undid them slowly, pulling the tie free and kissing Dean's wrists. With a final brush of his fingers of Dean's jaw line, he settled back to sitting on the bed. Dean would reach forward now and take Cas. Despite not feeling the sexual drive behind it, Cas would enjoy every moment. Memorizing the sounds Dean made, the feeling of his body and the emotion they shared.


End file.
